Act of Falling
by Nythtak
Summary: Anna Fray draws man-made angels and dreams of falling. Jocelyn thinks her daughter is far too much like her father, whilst Luke sees shadows of a painful past in a young girl's sharp features. Then comes the catalyst in the form of a demon hunt gone strange at Pandemonium night club, and Anna finds the Shadowhunter's world far too intriguing to let it go. Jace/OC
1. Chapter 1

"_What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams."  
_―Werner Herzog

_Chapter One_

The stone was smooth beneath her feet, a substance similar to marble in both texture and colour, the bright white as pure as freshly fallen snow. She'd always loved when it snowed, how the drab greys and browns of the city were concealed beneath it, how much more peaceful it seemed in those early mornings before they cleared the roads and people left their homes to mar the whiteness. Everything seemed fresher in the snow, simpler, almost, as if the world had begun anew. (Like the ash after a fire that burned _burned burned bright like a star a star in the morni-)_

She shivered, but it wasn't from the cold. The warm breeze was pleasant, ruffling her short hair and brushing across her bare skin. It was gentle, as if conscious of the effects its biting winds could evoke, the danger of its element on the small human standing so close to the edge. Balanced there, it would take but the lightest of taps to send her over stone rim, and down, down into the inky black depths presented to her beyond her small platform.

The question was; did she want to fall?

Looking down into the abyss below, she contemplated her answer. It should've been obvious. The fear was natural; it was that fear which kept her and her fellow humans alive. The fear of pain, the fear of death, the fear of the unknown. No one wanted to die, not really. They may wish for an escape, for an end to the pain they were feeling, but never truly did they wish for death itself to claim them. They did not die for the sake of death, they'd died for life, as ironic as that sounded. But she wasn't afraid, not in the slightest.

She didn't want to die. She knew that, knew that she could never welcome death with open arms and a defeated slump. No, she'd fight it every step of the way, struggle and bite and scream; do anything to free herself as she clutched to life. It just seemed- wrong, to her, to give up, no matter what had happened or would happen. Perhaps that was naïve of her, but better naïve than dead. Better stubborn than defeated, foolish than useless.

But then why did she want nothing more than to take that last step out, to lean forward and let herself _fall?_

_(Is it really falling when there's no ground to meet you?)_

An obnoxious ringing suddenly filled the air, causing it to shiver like a mirage, and as her dream world fell away Anna blinked open her dark green eyes. Her chin rested upon her palm, elbow pushing down almost painfully on the desk beneath the weight of her head, the papers that had been neatly piled upon it spread into a disarray. And etched on each piece of paper were almost identical images, repeating in varying levels of detail and tone, but unmistakably connected.

Wings, spread wide in preparation for flight. Some were powerful like those of an eagle, others a smaller bird species, delicate and light, and a few in their graceful curves would've looked at home on a swan. However, each set of wings were connected to the back of a human. Most sprouted naturally, as if the person had been born with the appendages. A few, these darker and harsher, were stitched painfully to the model, blood flowing freely down their back, or hung broken and torn. In every one only the back was visible, the differing of gender less obvious but still apparent. The pictures were beautiful in a tragic sort of way; they were not angels, only humans who wished to be.

Anna shook her head, as if to dislodge her strange thoughts. She sighed and straightened in her chair, wincing as her spine cracked, neck aching due to the awkward position it had been held in for however long she'd been asleep. She glanced at the watch strapped around her wrist, noting that she'd only drifted off for a couple of hours.

She supposed it didn't matter too much; it wasn't like she had anything else arranged to do today, and she really did need the sleep, seeing how she'd involuntarily become a bit of an insomniac lately. Subconsciously, her head tilted to the side. _Does anyone become an insomniac voluntarily? _She wondered, idly pushing the drawings back into a pile. _I suppose some people do; workaholics, people who stay out all night partying and have to go to school or work in the morning, maybe if you're obsessed with your laptop or watching TV or something. I'm relatively sure psychosis can cause insomnia also, as well as some other mental disorders-_

The same ringing that had broken her from her dreams started up again, and it took her lethargic mind a few seconds to identify it as her mobile phone. Anna had opted to stick with the ringtone that came with the phone, even if the repetitive sound had grown irritating _very _quickly. The alarm tone she had to change every few weeks; otherwise, she would grow so used to it that she'd turn the alarm off whilst mostly still asleep.

She pushed away from the desk, rolling the chair over to the bedside cabinet and grinning rather childishly, taking a simple delight in the quick movement. Snatching the mobile up from its place on top of a book, she glanced at the caller id before pressing the answer button.

"Hello Sim-" A jaw-cracking yawn interrupted her, before she continued her sentence sleepily. "Simon. How are you?"

"Were you sleeping in the middle of the day again?" The dry voice of her best friend replied, ignoring her question, though she could hear the slight tinge of concern. "Is it that dream again?"

"Yes," Anna sighed, hanging her head back over the edge of the chair and resting her feet on the bed. "I can't seem to stop drawing either."

"How long has it been since it started?"

"Two months and three weeks, approximately," she replied dryly, "I'm beginning to wonder if I should go to a psychologist, though the idea of a stranger poking around in my mind doesn't exactly appeal to me. Anyway, was there a purpose to this call?" Anna asked, not rudely despite how her words could be taken, the curious tone negating any hostility.

Simon sounded almost nervous when he replied. "Well, you've heard of the Pandemonium Club, right?" He continued before she could answer, stumbling over his rushed words. "I was walking down the street the other day and some people were giving out these ticket-no, um, coupon-uh, leaflet-_things _that get you a free drink at the club, so I got a couple of them, and I was wondering if you wanted to go tonight, so, um, yeah..."

Anna thought about it for a moment. She didn't really enjoy going to clubs and the like, having little experience with the type of dancing they did there and even less with interacting with teenagers her age. She found it difficult to...connect, she supposed, with other people, especially those in her age range. She actually got along better with adults, finding it easier to make conversation with them than girls her age who were much more interested with clothes and boys than discussions on evolution and social psychology. She was, however, rather adept at faking it when the time called for her to do so, meaning that she wasn't a total outcast at school, having a large circle of 'friends' who were really just people she hung around with when she was unable to go to the library or needed a favour.

Simon was an exception to this, due to the fact that she actually considered him a friend and enjoyed spending time with him, much to the confusion of her other 'friends'. Conversation with him was just more...interesting, she guessed, and after knowing him for so many years interaction with him was much more natural than with most anyone else. She was also rather...protective of those she considered (_hers_) a friend, as many a bully had found out over the years, especially since the events of-

Her thoughts were cut off by Simon calling her name, and she blinked before realising he was waiting for her answer.

"Ah, I...wouldn't mind going." She raised an eyebrow at the relieved sigh that came from the other end of the phone, but shrugged it off. "I have nothing else to do today, and my mother has been insisting lately that I need to do things that normal teenagers are into. Going to clubs is one of them, right?"

"Uh, yeah. I'll come by your place in a few hours then?"

"Okay, I'll see you then."

After Simon gave his own goodbye she closed the phone and dropped it on the chewed on her thumbnail as she considered the chest of draws, wondering if she had anything that would be appropriate to wear to a club. Her daily clothes tended to consist of capris or jeans and loose tank tops, accompanied by a pair of boots or ragged trainers. Since she spent most of her time outside in forested areas and parks, her choice of clothing made sense, but from what she'd heard they weren't really ideal for a club.

With a shrug she dedicated herself to spending the next few hours searching for something to wear. She thought her mother had bought a few nice shirts a while back in the vain hope that her daughter would become more feminine, perhaps they were buried somewhere...

**. . .**

Stepping into the club could be compared to jumping into a swimming pool. The wave of sound washed over the two teenagers, the tempo of the music speeding up their pulses and resonating almost painfully in their ears. Flashing lights lit the people there up in vibrant greens and pinks and blues, splashing their skins and clothes with the colours. The dry-ice smoke wavered beneath the lights, twisting around the bodies like a misty serpent. It took a few moments for them to grow used to the combination assaulting their senses, as they were pushed further into the club by the mesh of dancing bodies.

Anna wrinkled her nose of the prominent scents of sweat and perfumes, allowing herself to be tugged along by Simon over to the bar. It didn't take long for her to notice how much the two of them stuck out. The other club-goers dressed in skimpy black leather and scraps of silk, many a face of both genders pasted with make up, or pierced with hoops and gems. Anna had deigned to wear a pair of skinny jeans and one of the few form-fitting shirts she owned, a plain scarf wrapped around her neck as was usual. Simon looked even more out of place than she did, in an old T-shirt that said MADE IN BROOKLYN across the front in thick letters, and a pair of baggy jeans with trainers. He looked far too normal, with his shaggy brown hair and glasses, to be in a place like this.

Simon shouted something about ordering her a drink, waiting for her nod before beginning his fight to get to the bar through the crowd that had formed there. Anna found a place by the wall, slightly raised up on a higher part of the dance floor, where she had a good view of the club. A few of the more ridiculous dancers – limbs waving frantically, awkward renditions of decades old moves, jumping down in place – brought a slight smile to her face.

Her eyes were caught by a vibrant blue colour that managed - against all odds - to stand out. Her attention would've been quickly lost if it weren't for the way he moved. There was something...predatory about his steps, more a prowl than a walk.

_Not human. _Anna started at the thought, wondering where it had come from yet utterly sure that it was correct. Fascinated, she looked at his face. It was normal, despite the blue hair, but it wasn't what he looked like that she was so interested in. No, it was what the features themselves revealed about the boy. A lip curled in easily identified contempt, scorn and disgust as his central facial features scrunched upwards, a brief nostril flare of anger. This was not a boy having fun at a club. _No, _she thoughts, examining the narrowed eyes and drawn together eyebrows, _this is the face of a murderer looking for his next victim._

His eyes - a bright, unnatural green that she'd only just noticed, for all that she'd been staring – suddenly focussed on something, widening in momentary surprise before narrowing. His posture straightened, like a soldier called to attention, and Anna followed his line of vision to the girl approaching him. She was beautiful with her ink-black hair and smoky eyes, dressed in a floor-length white dress which hugged her tall, slim figure. A dark red pendent on a silver chain rested against her collarbone, flashing beneath the pulsating club lights. Anna's head tilted to the side. There was something about this girl, something that wasn't quite right...

She moved gracefully across the dance floor, confidence in each stride as she made her way past the blue-haired boy with and inviting smile. He followed after her a moment later, and Anna caught sight of a victorious smirk pulling at the girl's lips, how her fists clenched minutely and her eyes flickered over to-

Two black forms, shadowing the pair as they made their way to a door marked NO ADMITTANCE.

The black-clad duo stopped outside the door which swung shut behind the couple, and she quickly identified them as both being male, one blond and the other dark-haired (the same shade as the girl in the white dress, she noted) as they conferred with each other. She watched closely as the blond one reached into his jacket, removing a long, thin object that glinted silver beneath the lights. Her eyes widened when she registered the sharp edge of the blade, but she couldn't help but appreciate the irony of the situation._ Predator becomes prey. Or perhaps he always was?_

Anna wondered what most people would be feeling in this situation. Fear, most likely, both for the blue-haired boy and themselves. Horror, maybe, at the crime about to be committed, because though she'd yet to glimpse either of the newcomers faces the blond had carried that knife with familiarity, and she couldn't see many other outcomes. The black-haired girl had been the bait, and the not-boy had fallen for it.

It was not worry for him that drove her to sneak inside the room after them, but curiosity. She'd never been in a situation like this one, and a part of her was wondering how she would react. Would she try to help the not-boy, or would she run away when the time came? Maybe she would do nothing more than watch. She did know, however, that she wanted to know why these three people who couldn't be much older than her fifteen years were about to commit murder, and how they'd planned it with such ease. There was something...off, about them, and if she was to be accused of one flaw it had to be her curiosity.

The storage room was surprisingly cold, at odds with the heat of August outside. The faint noise of cars brought her gaze up to the high, barred windows, and her boots left smudges in the thick dust covering the floor, adding to four other pairs of shoe-shaped markings. Stepping carefully over the electrical cables lying hazardously on the ground, she examined the room closely. The strangest thing happened when she looked to the middle of the room, like her eyes wanted to slide away, something whispering in her mind that _there's nothing there._

Impatiently she shoved the voice away with an indignant _yes there is. _And, as if summoned by the thought four teenagers appeared where there had only been empty space seconds before. She only gained a glimpse before quickly moving behind the nearest concrete pillar, but it was enough. The girl in the white dress stood with the two who had shadowed her, who looked to be of a similar age. The dark-haired one shared her delicate features, though his eyes were a bright blue in comparison to her darker ones. Definitely at least related, if not siblings.

The blonde was slightly shorter than the other boy, his fair hair shining golden beneath the dim light. She noticed with amusement that he too was pretty, like the black-haired girl and boy were, features angular and somewhat feminine, though his muscular build detracted from that somewhat. He faced the not-boy, who stood slumped against a pillar, arms tied awkwardly around it with wire and his ankles bound together similarly. He was grimacing in pain and anger, but tinges of fear widened his eyes and sped up his breathing.

Carefully, ensuring that she wouldn't get spotted, Anna peered around her pillar, prepared to jump back if they turned towards her hiding place. The blonde had crossed his arms as he stalked back and forth, reminding her of a lion or some other big cat, restless in its cage. "So," he said, voice low and almost playful. "You still haven't told me if there are any other of your kind with you?"

_Your kind? _What could that mean? Her first thought was that it was some sort of distinction between factions, like between gangs or simply cultural identities. _Racists maybe? No, they all seem to be Caucasian. And gangs...it just doesn't feel right. _She shook her head, knowing better than to rely on just feelings. After all, her feelings seemed to be of the opinion that the blue-haired boy wasn't even human, and that couldn't be possible...could it?

"I don't know what you're talking about." Was the blue-haired boy's rough reply. His lie was a poor and obvious one, clear even if she didn't have a baseline to work with. The other three teenagers didn't believe him, either.

"He means other demons," clarified the dark-haired boy, continuing condescendingly, "You do know what a demon is, don't you?"

The not-boy turned away, ignoring the question even as he swallowed in fear.

The blonde had stopped his pacing, and moved closer to the blunette with a mocking smile. "Demons," he drawled, tracing the word in the air before him. "Religiously defined as hell's denizens, the servants of Satan, but understood here, for the purposes of the Clave, to be any malevolent spirit whose origin is outside our own home dimension-"

"That's enough, Jace." interrupted the girl, though she sounded amused.

"Isabelle's right," her brother (?) agreed. "Nobody here needs a lesson in semantics – or demonology."

Anna chewed her lip. It should sound insane, that these three evidently believed that demons existed, that the (not) boy they had tied up was on of them. She knew there was no such thing, that there was no evidence to back up theories of their existence other than the dubious sources of legends and holy books.

But then, if they were all clearly delusional, why did what they were saying sound so _right?_

The blond – Jace, the girl had called him – abruptly raised his head and grinned. There was nothing friendly about his grin as it spread, slow and dangerous, across his face. His excitement was almost tangible, yet it was tinged with a dark edge, wild and only barely restrained. "Isabelle and Alec think I talk too much," he said. His voice lowered as he leaned closer, as if imparting a secret. "Do _you _think I talk too much?"

Nerves left the blue-haired boy struggling to form a sentence, and when he did his fear was poorly concealed. "I could give you information," he bargained, "I know where Valentine is." Anna tensed at the name, though she couldn't think why. Her brows furrowed in confusion, though she kept her attention on the four teenagers.

Jace exchanged a glance with Alec, who shrugged, and said, "Valentine's in the ground. The thing's just toying with us."

Anna examined the not-boy's face, searching for signs of deceit. There was panic there, and a growing sense of fear when he heard Isabelle's encouragement to kill him. He seemed to have given up trying to hide his emotions when Jace raised a knife, stark fear widening his eyes as he flinched back instinctively, struggling against his bonds. "Valentine is back! All the Infernal Worlds know it- I know it-I can tell you where he is-"

She found herself more interested in the knife than the not-boy's panicked words, barely registering them as she looked at the strange, almost translucent quality of it, like a piece of ice. Its hilt was set with glistening red stones, and its razor sharp edge looked like it could slice through steel. Her fingers twitched.

"By the Angel," The rage in Jace's voice caused her to start, attention switching back to him as she examined the frustration and incredulity in his expression, as well as...a hint of fear? "Every time we capture one of you bastards, you claim you know where Valentine is. Well, we know where he is too. He's in hell. And you-" He twisted the knife in his grasp, adjusting his grip as he pulled it back in preparation of what would surely be a fatal blow. "You can _join him there._"

Anna knew she could walk away whist they were distracted, how easy it would be for her to forget this had ever happened. She could go find Simon, return to her ordinary life where there were no blue-haired not-boys and knife-wielding blonds who believed in demons. She could dismiss this as some strange hallucination her mind had dreamt up, finally cracking beneath the strain of-

"Why do you believe he's a demon?" She asked, stepping out from behind the pillar. It was what she'd been wondering, after all, and this seemed as opportune a moment to ask.

Jace spun to face her, knife tumbling from his shock-loosened grip. His eyes were an interesting colour, she noticed as they widened considerably, an almost gold colour, slightly darker in shade than his hair. They made the feline comparison all the more apt.

All four stared at Anna incredulously, jaws slackening slightly and eyes blinking wide with surprise. Had no one ever interrupted them in the middle of a murder before? That rather surprised her; they weren't exactly being conspicuous, killing someone in a crowded club where they would likely be noticed. Yet they seemed experienced; there was no hesitation in their actions, no anxiety or guilt flashing across their faces as they prepared to kill.

It must be her then. Was her question so inappropriate? She was curious, and listening to them had only made her more so. Demons...the Clave...'outside our home dimension'...this Angel...Valentine. So many questions. Now she had to figure out how to get them to answer.

It was Alec who regained his wits first. "What's this?" he demanded, examining Anna quickly – assessing, she realized, judging how much of a threat she was – before dismissing her and turning to his companions as if they might have an answer to his query. Anna stifled the burst of irritation at the easy dismissal. It was better, after all, to be underestimated, she reminded herself. Still, her pride bristled beneath her calm exterior.

Jace had recovered somewhat, enough to snarkily reply, "It's a girl. Surely you've seen girls before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one." Ah, so the relationship between the two was confirmed. "A mundie girl," he continued, more to himself than the others, still looking at her intently whilst she blinked back guilelessly. Anna was happy to let them talk, hoping that they'd let something more slip, something that would allow her to _understand _the situation, rather than the bits and pieces she was going on. "And she can see us."

"Why wouldn't I be able to see you?" she asked, watching cautiously as he bent down to pick up his knife _(keep your muscles relaxed – you tense them when you need them, otherwise you're useless)._

"Because you're blind; you just don't know it," Jace replied casually, sharing a somewhat smug look with the black-haired siblings. Anna felt her eyes narrow at the insult, tapping a quick three-beat rhythm against the side of her thigh to help calm her rising anger. It was a habit she'd had for a long while, and by splitting her attention she usually found it a bit easier to control her anger. "You'd better get out of here, if you know what's good for you," The blond went on, flicking his blade towards her in a sort of shooing motion.

Anna bared her teeth in a sharp grin, sensing more than seeing how the three tensed slightly at the unnerving expression. "I've never claimed to know what's good for me," she practically purred, the syllables rolling off her tongue in that arrogant tone she took when her irritation was pushing against her restraints. There was nothing she hated more than being seen as ignorant, being treated as a naïve _child. _"Since you don't seem to have understood me the first time, I'll repeat myself. Why do you believe this boy is a demon?"

Jace was twirling the knife between his fingers – a nervous habit, perhaps? - watching her much more closely now. "It isn't a boy," he said, pointing the knife at the not-boy, who had slumped over in what seemed to be a faint. But since her instincts were currently urging her to be wary, she presumed he was faking it. Besides, the rise and fall of his chest was too rapid for him to be in an unconscious state. "It isn't even a he. It may look like a boy and talk like a boy, maybe even bleed like one. But it's a monster, a demon."

"_Jace!" _Isabelle hissed warningly, "That's enough. You can't just go telling random mundies about – about _everything._"

Alec snorted. "It's not like she believes you anyway."

But Anna's eyes remained on Jace's face, flickering rapidly over his features, searching for any signs of deceit. There was nothing, just honesty and a grim seriousness. Only the very best of liars could manipulate their expressions to such an extent that no signs of deception leaked through, could control their emotions enough to block them entirely. From what she'd seen so far of this teenager, he wasn't quite good enough to mask his emotions from her; she'd had a lot of practise reading better liars than he.

She nodded decisively. If she was wrong, then it wasn't like it would have any serious ramifications – except altering her entire life view, of course. _(But that's okay because it feels right rightrightRIGHT) _"I believe you," she said, enjoying the surprise that flashed across their faces. She much preferred their bewilderment to her own.

Alec opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was interrupted. With an inhuman cry the not-boy tore free from is restraints, before launching himself at Jace. The blond was unprepared for the assault so they tumbled to the floor, grappling as they each tried to gain the upper hand over their opponent. Anna took a few steps back so that she was out of the way and watched curiously, eyeing the blood-stained claws that had replaced the not-boy's fingers.

The demon proved to be the stronger of the two males, sitting on Jace's chest as he swiped at the blond with his claws. The teenager managed to bring an arm up to shield himself but the claws sliced smoothly through his skin, carving deep red lines and splattering blood. The demon made to do the same again when Isabelle's whip lashed across his back, sending him falling to the side with a shriek.

With a swiftness that spoke of intensive training Jace rolled over and sprang, sinking his blade _(pretty blade pretty wings) _into the blue-haired boy's chest. A black liquid exploded around the hilt, the consistency thicker than blood, and the demon screeched as he twisted in pain. His movements lessened quickly, screeches becoming little more than gurgles, until he lay almost still besides a few twitches.

With a grimace Jace stood up, wrinkling his nose at the sight of his shirt wet with blood, before reaching down and yanking out his knife. The demon seemed to have enough life in him for his eyes to flicker open and fix on Jace's face with a deep loathing. Voice clogged and heavy, he hissed,"So be it. The Forsaken will take you all." Then his eyes rolled back, and Anna watched with wide eyes as his body folded in on itself, reducing in size until it vanished entirely. _How...interesting._

So it seemed that Jace really had been telling the truth. Her logical side wanted to reject ever seeing any of it, to believe that it was the result of some hallucinatory drug she'd ingested because this just couldn't _be real. _But the rest of her was intrigued, was curious about this strange world she'd stumbled upon, and she hungered to know _more._

Something shot out whilst she was distracted with her thoughts, wrapping painfully tight around her wrist. Anna glanced down at the gold whip and turned a baleful look on Isabelle, who was glaring furiously at her. "Stupid little mundie," the black-haired girl snarled, "You could have gotten Jace killed!"

"How?" she asked, head tilting to the side as she tugged casually at the taunt whip, trying to find any slack as well as assessing the strength if it. Seeing as it held fast she decided that the strange material it was made off must be quite strong. "It's not my fault he didn't notice the demon was pretending to be unconscious. You're the ones who are experienced with this kind of thing, after all."

"Why you-"

Jace interrupted Isabelle's fury with a short laugh as he walked towards them, arm cradled to his chest with a scowling Alec following close behind. "She's right, I should know better by now than to let my guard down." He saw Anna glancing at the spot where the demon's corpse had lay, and continued, "They return to their home dimensions when they die." She looked at him now with open curiosity and he grinned at her. "In case you were wondering."

"Jace, be careful," Alec hissed in warning, shooting Anna a dark look. "Don't you think it's suspicious that she's taking this so well?"

"Would you prefer I start screaming hysterically?" Anna inquired, raising an eyebrow. She decided that out of the three demon-killing teenagers Jace was definitely her favourite, due to the simple fact that he actually answered her questions and wasn't currently glaring at her as if wishing she would disappear through the sheer force of their anger. It didn't appear to be working so well for them.

"What do you want me to do with her?" Isabelle asked, sending the other girl a disdainful glance. Anna had a few morbid thoughts of the three pouncing like the demon had done only minutes before, except this time she would be the target. She quickly estimated the distance to the door, wondering if she pulled hard enough the whip would escape the black-haired girl's grip and she'd be able to flee. With three on one the odds weren't exactly in her favour, not even factoring in the weapons they had at their disposal. She didn't like the idea of running away, but she wasn't an idiot, and knew how to pick her battles.

Before she could attempt to put her plan into action Jace spoke. "Let her go," he ordered quietly, tawny eyes remaining locked on Anna's own. She wondered what he saw there. A little girl, oblivious to the world he lived in? Or could he see the scars entrenched in her mind, the way her fingers itched for the blades he wielded so comfortably?

Isabelle obeyed him reluctantly, releasing the whip's hold with a flick of her wrist. It left behind a thin red line where it had pressed down on her skin, but the slight pain was easily dismissed. She had a relatively high pain fresh hold after all.

"Maybe we should bring her back with us," Alec suggested. "I bet Hodge would like to talk to her."

"No way are we bringing her to the Institute," Isabelle protested. "She's a mundie."

"Or is she?" Jace disputed, eyes narrowed in contemplation as he studied her. "Have you had dealings with demons, little girl?" Anna bristled, but he went on. "Walked with warlocks, talked with the Night Children? Have you-"

"Perhaps if you closed your mouth I could answer you," she snapped, even as part of her mind catalogued the plethora of information he had just handed her. Warlocks, Night Children; it seemed there were more things out there than just demons. "And my name is Anna, not little girl or mundie-" here she shot a glare at the siblings, "-so if you will refrain from the patronizing nicknames, I would _appreciate _it. And no," she added as an afterthought, "To my knowledge I haven't consorted with any of the aforementioned beings."

"You sure about that?" Jace asked, looking amused at her short rant and how her articulation increased with her agitation.

Before she could answer the storage room door slammed open. She span around to see Simon standing in the doorway with a frantic expression, which quickly turned to relief when he caught sight of her. "Anna! There you are. I've been looking for you for ages," he peered around the dark room in confusion. "What're you doing in here?"

Anna glanced over her shoulder where the teenagers stood, Jace sending her a grin and a mocking wave when she looked at him. Then she turned to Simon who had followed her gaze, and watched as his eyes slid passed their forms like there was nothing there but empty space. She couldn't help the smile that curled up the corners of her mouth, even as a spark of irritation at the interruption sent her fingers tapping their beat. "It's nothing Simon. I just thought I saw something interesting." What she didn't add was that she'd found it, and there was no way, come hell or high water, that she was going to let it go now that her fascination had been ensnared.

* * *

A/N: Just a quick note to say that no, I don't hate Clary. I just like the idea of a stronger, darker protagonist, and felt like taking it for a test run.

(Also realised that Anna is a bit of an unintentional fem!Sephiroth - final fantasy fans, this was by accident. Not that I regret it, since Sephiroth has his awesome moments.)

Reviews would be great. They really do help give the muse a good kick and get it going. Otherwise I get distracted by other fics.

Let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Oh,"the girl said, shaking her head. "Don't be so simple. People adore monsters. They fill their songs and stories with them. They define themselves in relation to them. You know what a monster is, young shade? Power. Power and choice. Monsters make choices. Monsters shape the world. Monsters force us to become stronger, smarter, better. They sift the weak from the strong and provide a forge for the steeling of souls. Even as we curse monsters, we admire them. Seek to become them, in some ways." Her eyes became distant. "There are far, far worse things to be than a monster."  
_―Jim Butcher, _Ghost Story_

_Chapter Two_

Anna tapped the end of her pencil against her cheek as she stared down at the picture she had drawn. Two boys fought on the piece of paper, the only colour beings their eyes; one brilliantly green, the other dark gold. The green eyed one crouched above golden eyes, mouth pulled into a vicious snarl as his clawed hand reared back, ready to strike. It was almost lifelike, the detail and shading adding an air of vitality to the golden eyed boy's struggle and enhancing green eyes' inhuman anger.

It was an almost perfect imitation of the events of the night before. Many more drawings were scattered on the table in front of her; Isabelle in her flowing white dress, Alec with his suspicious eyes and disapproving frown, and Jace with his sharp grin and arrogant poise. By virtue of her eidetic memory she was able to replicate each moment of last night, whilst she tried to figure out how to learn more about this world she had only caught a glimpse of.

When Simon had arrived she'd had no choice but to leave, despite her curiosity trying to drag her back to the storage room and its demon-killing inhabitants. Frustration had made her harsh when Simon expressed his annoyance, and he quickly shut up when she turned a glare on him. She would apologise to the boy later; he was her friend, no matter how bad his timing was, and she preferred him happy over sullen and gloomy. She knew from experience that it wouldn't be too difficult to appease him, since Simon didn't seem to be able to hold a grudge against her for very long.

Her mind drifted back to what she had learnt last night. Demons, warlocks, vampires. It all seemed so impossible in the light of day, so far away. But she knew what she had seen, had detected no hint of a lie or mockery when the blond boy had questioned her about the other creatures. She'd spent a few hours attempting to find any concrete evidence on the internet, but most of what she'd come up with were romance books – which had made her shudder – and Hollywood movies. The myths and legends she'd researched _were _rather interesting, though she highly doubted the accuracy of them, considering the amount of variance.

The real problem was finding one of the teenagers for her to find more information from. They obviously knew a lot, and though the siblings obviously didn't want her to know anything, Jace seemed quite eager in his passing on of facts. She'd hardly had to prompt him at all; perhaps he liked the sound of his own voice too much, and she was but a willing audience?

Smirking at the thought Anna picked up her mobile and scrolled through her list of contacts until she found Simon's number, and hit call. She may as well apologise for her short attitude last night, before he had time to stew. Besides, she needed a distraction; she'd been thinking about last night all day.

The phone didn't ring for long before it was answered. "What's up, Anna?" Simon said stiffly. She could hear the sounds of people chatting in the background, and remembered him mentioning that today he was practising with his band.

"I'm sorry about last night; I wasn't feeling very well." Her apology wasn't exactly sincere, and the lie slipped from her tongue with a casual ease. She was a good liar.

"Oh. Well, you could've said so," he said, sounding surprised. Anna didn't get ill very often. Or at all, really. His next sentence was concerned, "Are you okay now?"

"I'm fine, it passed after I got some sleep." Another lie. She hadn't slept at all, her mind buzzing with too many thoughts to allow her to sleep.

"That's good, I guess," he replied unsurely. "Uh, d'you want to hang out today then, since last night was cut short? Eric has his poetry thing today, and I could do with a little moral support. Or, you know, someone to make sure I don't run away screaming."

Anna frowned an leant back in her chair. Whilst she didn't particularly want to listen to Eric's strange imitation of poetry, she was rather bored, and - as low a chance that it was – she was more likely to run into one of the teenagers from last night outside her house. "All right. You may have to help convince Jocelyn to let me go, though. I seemed to have been re-designated to 'bane of her existence'."

"Was she that angry you got in late? It's not like it was your fault there was traffic!"

"She doesn't see it that way. I can always sneak out of my window if I need to, but I'd rather not antagonise her further. She does buy my art supplies, after all." Anna didn't bother to bring up the fact that she would've gladly gotten a job if it wasn't for Jocelyn's insistence that she didn't need one yet. She would've gone ahead and gotten one anyway if it weren't for the fact that they'd need a home address and number, and so might accidentally alert Jocelyn and incur her wrath.

"Sure, I'll head over now," Simon agreed readily enough. "See you soon."

"Bye."

Anna slipped on her jacket and placed the phone in her pocket, then stepped into her trainers and laced them up before entering the living room. Jocelyn shared her interest in art – perhaps the only thing that they had in common – and it was evident in the hand-made pillows on the red sofa, and the many paintings that hung on the walls. None were as dark of morbid as Anna's had the tendency to be. They were mostly landscapes; scenes of Prospect Park in the different seasons, the Manhattan skyline, all of them beautiful in their brightness and intricacy. There were no man-made angels to be found in her Jocelyn's art.

Above the mantel over the fireplace a framed photo of Jocelyn's deceased husband sat, looking thoughtful in his military dress. Anna had never been able to associate the man in the photo with the title 'Father', not when she had neither met the man nor cared for him. He was dead, little more than a stranger who happened to share half of her genetic code. When she was younger she'd said this to Jocelyn, and the woman had looked torn between crying and smiling. She could be odd like that sometimes.

Anna sat down on the sofa, half-hoping that Simon would arrive before Jocelyn came home so she could leave without the inevitable argument. But as tempting as the idea was she knew the woman would just be even angrier if she sent a text or left a note. Best to get it over with, no matter how much it annoyed her to be so restricted by anyone. She prided herself on her independence, so Jocelyn's fussy attitude agitated her. Many of her rules and worries made no sense to the teenager, and she was used to sneaking out in a deliberate undermining of Jocelyn's authority. She was familiar with her mother's anger when she was caught, and had long since stopped caring. Perhaps if Jocelyn ever _explained _why Anna wasn't allowed to do certain things, then she might actually listen, a fact that she'd expressed many times over the years. But each time the woman had simply clammed up. It was beyond annoying, and strained their relationship practically to it's breaking point. All it would take was a little _push..._

The sound of a key turning in a lock pulled Anna away from her thoughts, and she glanced over at the front door as it opened with a _thump _against the wall. Luke stood there, arms filled with several large squares of cardboard, and Anna remembered that Jocelyn had said she was going to Luke's house earlier that day. She'd been more interested in her drawings than her mother's words.

Luke set down the cardboard squares – boxes folded flat, she realized – and straightened with a groan, back cracking. His eyes widened behind the gold-rimmed spectacles when he saw her sitting there, and he sent her a weak smile.

Luke had been around for the majority of her life. A friend of her mother's, he'd just shown up one day at their door, and Anna had been quickly ushered away to give them privacy. She'd always been curious about what they'd said. Jocelyn almost never talked about her past, and when she did it was vague and meaningless. She never mentioned her parents, where she was brought up, her friends, anything. It was – as Jocelyn always replied – as if her life had begun when Anna had born. Anna always had to resist the urge to scoff at that. It was such a ridiculous sentiment, and thankfully after she'd expressed her disdain a few times Jocelyn had stopped saying it.

When she was younger she'd often go around to Luke's bookshop, revelling in the amount of knowledge packed into such a small place. They'd gotten along well at first, but as she'd gotten older Luke had become more distant and closed off, more...wary, almost. Sensing this she stopped visiting him, her young self hurt and almost betrayed, and started spending her time outside instead. Now she only saw him when he came to visit Jocelyn.

Sometimes...sometimes she swore that he looked at her and saw someone else entirely. And whoever that someone was, he was afraid of them.

"Hey, Anna," he greeted, drawing her out of her thoughts.

"Luke," she nodded, watching the flash of emotion that flickered across his face as he eyes lost focus. She'd reminded him of something, and by his expression it wasn't a pleasant memory. "What are the boxes for?"

He looked away from her face, a hand coming up to scratch his cheek in what she'd learnt was Luke's nervous gesture – his tell. "Your mother wanted to pack up some things. She's parking the truck now."

Anna's eyes narrowed and she rose to her feet. "What sort of things?"

He glanced back at her, that same reminiscence passing over his expression before he said hastily, "Extra stuff lying around the house. Getting in the way. You know she never throws anything out. So, how've you been lately?" he asked in a clear attempt at distraction as he walked over to the hearth.

Deciding to oblige him – for now – she answered flatly, "I've been fine."

"That's good, I guess." Luke started rummaging through the tool kit set beside the hearth. After a few moments he pulled out an orange plastic tape gun with a murmured, "Here it is."

Anna considered him, running all the information she had on the man through her mind but looking at it in a new light, one brought on by the events of the night before. On the surface he was a mild-mannered middle-aged man, though surprisingly fit for his age. There was nothing about him to truly cause suspicion that was not purely paranoia. But she couldn't dismiss anything, not when she now knew how blind she'd been. Perhaps it was time for a shot in the dark...

"I've been researching werewolf mythology recently," she began, narrowed eyes alike to a predator watching its prey as Luke stiffened, muscles in his back tensing and his breathing coming to an abrupt stop. Surprise tinged her triumph at having hit the mark; she hadn't really been expecting any sort of reaction, having only picked up on the fact that Luke tended to look noticeably worn the day after the full moon, and though he often stayed over at the apartment when she was younger it'd never been on that night.

So Luke was a werewolf, then, or at least some sort of supernatural creature? It irritated her that the fact had escaped her notice for so long; she should've realised there was something off about him, even if the man didn't exactly declare it with his words or behaviour. She was supposed to be intelligent; she shouldn't have let something so important slip passed her, and from someone who she saw so often, at that! How could she have been so ignorant? Her anger at herself showed in the sharp edge her words took. "You wouldn't happen to have any books on the subject?"

Luke, still facing away from her, was saved from having to answer by the door opening once again. Booted heels clacking against the floor, Jocelyn Fray entered the apartment and headed over to Luke, passing him a set of car keys with a smile which faltered slightly when she saw his shaken state. A question was in her expression before she caught sight of her daughter, a mixture of surprise, understanding and something Anna couldn't quite catch flashing across her face. _She knows about Luke, _she thought in an instinctive leap of logic. It only made her all the more frustrated at her own ignorance, as well as Jocelyn's decision to keep her that way.

Green eyes a few shades lighter than Anna's met her own when Jocelyn turned to face her, dark red hair swaying in its loose knot at the motion. Despite her hiking boots Jocelyn was still slightly shorter than her daughter, due to the recent growth spurt teenagers were so prone to. They shared slender frames, fair skin and defined features, but whilst Jocelyn carried an almost porcelain doll-like facial structure, Anna's were sharper, holding a subtle edge to them not evidenced in her mother. The messy, wavy red locks of Jocelyn were contrasted by Anna's usual neat, hip-length ponytail tied high on her head, which was a pale blond nearing white. She wasn't sure where she'd inherited the colour from, since it clearly wasn't from the man on the mantel, but Jocelyn refused to answer any question she had that pertained to the woman's past. Annoying, but she'd gotten used to it.

She analysed the dark circles under her mother's eyes and the harried way she played with a loose thread on her shirt, the eyes that flickered around the room every few seconds, pausing at the exits – windows, open door to hallway, door to Jocelyn's bedroom, door to Anna's bedroom, door to the kitchen, door out of the apartment, repeat – like a cornered animal. What had made her so frantic?

"Anna," Jocelyn said almost hesitantly. She had that look on her face, and Anna almost sighed. Jocelyn shared that habit with Luke; she must've behaved in some way similar to that person again. "Aren't you usually out at this time?"

The question sounded almost accusing, and in response Anna scowled. "You grounded me, or has it slipped your mind?"

Jocelyn frowned. "Don't you take that tone with me, young lady. I've been busy today, that's all." Then she turned to Luke, releasing some of the tension in her shoulders as she gave him a weak smile that went unreturned. "Thanks for bringing the boxes up. Sorry it took me so long to find a space. There must be a million people at the park today, with the amount of cars taking up room."

"What are the boxes for?" Anna asked, suspicion flaring when Jocelyn bit her lip and looked to Luke for help. When he offered none, other than an unsure shrug, she visibly steeled herself and stepped closer to her daughter. Her expression made it seem more like she was approaching a primed bomb that was close to detonation, and Anna's own wariness rose as a result. What did she have to say, that would cause her to anticipate such a bad reaction?

"We're going on vacation for the rest of the summer," she said quickly, words rushed and slightly breathless. "Up to the farmhouse – the three of us. I need a break from the city, we all do, so I thought-"

"Why now?" _Lieslieslieslies _something like instinct (but not) screamed in her head. She didn't need it to know Jocelyn's reasons were false; it was in her defensive posture, in the forced eye contact and obviously rehearsed lines. But why would she lie about something so trivial, seeking to protect the truth with such vehemence? Why was she insisting that Anna remained _ignorant?_

Her anger at that burned cold, revealing itself in the blankness of her expression and the darkening of her eyes. Jocelyn saw that and shivered at the familiarity that rose in her; she was so similar to _him, _yet so different at the same time. _His _frost hid a violent flame, ready to burst forth when taunted, but Anna was all ice.

"I have to get away, Anna," Jocelyn replied, and there was new fear now in her face, fear that held a source other than her daughter. The teenager wondered what could induce such terror in the usually collected woman. "I need the peace, the quiet, to paint. And money is tight now-"

"If money is tight, why don't you allow me to get a job?" Anna countered. It was the option that made the most sense after all, and perhaps she would finally get an actual answer, with Jocelyn as stressed as she was. "You can go if you need the break, and I'm old enough to take care of myself-"

"No!" Jocelyn cut in fiercely, her distress spiking visibly. "We'll get by, and you _are _coming with us. It isn't optional. There's no way you're staying here on your own, especially not at your age. Anything could happen."

"You really have so little faith in me?" she said dryly, eyebrow raised as she watched Jocelyn flinch with those faraway eyes. It appeared that today was one where she imitated the mysterious person quite a bit. "What could happen, exactly?"

There was a crash of breaking glass and the two females turned to look at Luke, one accusing and the other startled but concerned. He'd knocked over one of the framed pictures that had hung on the wall, intentionally it seemed. Anna glared but this time Luke stared back defiantly. "I'm leaving."

"Wait," Jocelyn called as she hurried after him into the entryway. The two lingered by the door, and Anna was able to catch snippets of Jocelyn's urgent whisper. "...Bane. I've been calling him and calling him for the past three weeks. His voice mail says he's in Tanzania. What am I supposed to do?"

Luke sounded resigned when he replied, "You can't keep going to him forever, Jocelyn. You know that."

"But Anna-"

"I know, I know. But, no matter what, she _isn't Jonathan. _She's human, despite- look, it doesn't matter. They still aren't the same." Jonathan...her father, wasn't human? At least, that was what it sounded like. Still, she shouldn't make assumptions; misinformation was far worse than none at all.

"I can't just keep her at home, not let her go out." Anna inwardly growled at the very notion. Her freedom was already restricted; she wasn't going to let the control extend any further. "She won't put up with it."

"I can't think of a teenager who would, least of all _his _daughter." So Luke knew her father as well? Perhaps...was this the man she was always being compared to? The one they feared so much? Or was it hate? (_Ah, but fear breeds hatred, and hatred spurs fear in an endless cycle-_)

"If we were out of the city..."

"Nothing would change; not in the long run." Luke sighed, and she saw him reach for the doorknob at the edge of her peripheral vision. The door flew open before he could touch it, prompting Jocelyn to give a short scream and Luke to exclaim, "Jesus!"

Simon blinked at the startled adults as their surprise turned to embarrassment. "Actually, it's just me, although I've been told the resemblance is startling." Spotting Anna he waved at her in greeting, smiling when she returned it with a mildly amused smirk. Had he interrupted something?

Jocelyn peered up at the taller boy, dropping her hand from where it'd hovered in front of her mouth. "Simon, were you eavesdropping?"

Confused, Simon shook his head. She still looked suspicious so he said, "No, I just got here. Is something wrong?" He'd always thought Anna's mom was pretty nice in a weird, kind of distant yet overprotective way, and wondered why she seemed so stressed. It couldn't be over last night, could it? "Should I go?" He glanced to Anna for an answer, but Luke spoke up before she could.

"Don't bother, I think we're done here." he said with a significant look to Jocelyn, before he pushed passed Simon. The downstairs front door slammed shut a few seconds later, leaving the three standing awkwardly around the open doorway.

"I can come back later," Simon began, but Anna was already walking towards him, snatching the jacket she'd worn the previous night from a nearby hook and slipping it on. Her phone, wallet, and a small notebook with a pencil were already in several of the large pockets, since she hadn't bothered to take them out.

"We're going now," she said simply, ignoring Jocelyn's protests and slamming the door shut in her face with a kick from her heel as she walked away. Jocelyn obviously wasn't up to sharing, so there was no point in sticking around to hear her platitudes. Perhaps if she stayed out long enough the pressure would get to the redhead and she'd cave. For that, she had a mobile.

Simon followed her quick pace in nervous silence. He'd known Anna long enough that he could tell her moods to an extent (and likely only what she allowed him to read), and right now she was both angry and curious. Not a good combination, he decided with a wince. He swore he was gonna get frostbite if she didn't cheer up – well, as much as Anna could.

They'd just reached the bottom of the steps when the door of the downstairs tenant's psychic's shop opened. The man that stepped through distracted Anna from the situation with Jocelyn as she examined his exotic features, taking in the cat-like eyes and sharp white teeth. Something _pushed _at her – not a physical force, but too real to have been imagined, like something was tugging at her conscious. She glared at the surprised man through the faint dizziness, fingers twitching for something _sharp._

But the man only grinned, and then he was gone. Her eyes widened and she looked around for him, but there was only herself and a bemused Simon. "What're you doing?"

Anna shook her head and continued on her course out of the building. "Nothing." Another encounter with what was obviously a non-human. Had she been surrounded by them all her life, and just been blind to them? It was almost insulting.

A few minutes later the two teenagers arrived at Java Jones, the small café surprisingly crowded for a Monday. Anna was rather dubious about acclaiming that to the boy swaying behind the microphone, eye scrunched closed and the tips of his hair dyed pink. They were probably here for the coffee, she decided as she looked around for a seat whilst Simon got the drinks, spotting one near the back. It was suitably isolated, since there was only one other person nearby, and the girl seemed more interested in her iPod than trying to chat. Anna wasn't really in the socialising mood, and was far more liable to make the girl burst into tears than put up with inane chatter.

This was quickly put to the test when the blond tapped Anna on the shoulder moments after she'd sat down. With an inward sigh she directed a flat stare at the girl, but she wasn't put off. "Excuse me, but is that your boyfriend?"

"No," the paler blond answered – she didn't have one at all, what else would she say? - before following the girl's line of sight to see that she'd been talking about Simon. The dark-haired boy was headed towards them, cups of coffee held carefully in his hands.

"He's cute," iPod girl looked very happy with her answer. "Does he have a girlfriend?"

Anna refrained from pinching the bridge of her nose. Granted, this was the first time she'd seen a girl express interest in Simon, but did it really have to go through her? Was it so difficult to just go up to the boy instead of asking someone else about him? "No."

"Is he gay?" Now she looked slightly suspicious, and a little disappointed.

"Not to my knowledge," she said honestly. Simon had never really been too interested in either gender, not having had a girlfriend or boyfriend in the years she'd known him. She had seen him looking at certain parts of the female anatomy before, so she was reasonably certain he was straight, but she was hardly a relationship expert.

The nosy blond opened her mouth, but Simon arrived at the table, staving off any further questions as she quickly turned back to her own table. He set the Styrofoam cups down quickly but carefully so he didn't spill any of the coffee, before dropping down into the seat beside Anna. Shaking his hands out he grumbled, "I hate it when they run out of mugs. Those things are hot."

Anna hummed as she reached out for the nearest cup and place it to her mouth, swallowing a few gulps of the dark liquid. She enjoyed the burn it sent down the back of her throat to pool heatedly in her stomach, ignoring Simon's incredulous stare.

"I still don't get how you can do that," he commented, blowing on his own coffee in an effort to cool it.

Anna spared him a languid smile, content with the rich taste of her favourite drink on her tongue. "Trade secret."

A faint blush spread across Simon's cheeks, to the blond girl's confusion. "Uh, I kinda wanted to talk to you about-"

A burst of feedback shrieked through the café, causing everyone to clap their hands over their ears (though Anna made sure to ensure the safety of her coffee first, placing it gently on the table with the care one might spare to a newborn or a prized jewel) and glare at the boys on stage.

Eric finally got his microphone set back up in the appropriate position, grinning out at the annoyed crowd. "Sorry about that, guys! All right. I'm Eric, and this is my homeboy Matt on the drums." The bleary-eyed boy waved a hand absently. "My first poem is called 'Untitled'." Then he was wailing, face scrunched up in agony, "'Come, my faux juggernaut, my nefarious loins! Slather every protuberance with arid zeal!'"

Simon sunk down into his eat, expression miserable as he begged, "Please don't tell anyone I know him."

Anna tilted her head, wondering aloud, "Did he just get a thesaurus and switch out every other word?"

"'Turgid is my torment! Agony swells within!'"

"I think I can relate to that," Simon said, before nudging Anna who blinked at him. He gulped nervously beneath her curious stare, her eyes appearing almost black in the darkened corner. A large part of him was telling him to keep quiet, because Anna was _Anna _and could he really see her being interested in someone romantically? But she was his best friend too, and he knew she'd pick up on how he felt about her eventually. It was better for him to tell her, than for her to figure it out, which would no doubt be infinitely embarrassing.

"You know, I'm the only guy in the band without a girlfriend." Okay, that wasn't a good start. Still, progress was progress!

"Do you want one?" Anna asked, and Simon swore his heart stopped beating.

"Y-yeah."

Anna caught a glimpse of the iPod girl glancing over at Simon, and remembered the short conversation. "That girl thinks you're, I quote, 'cute'. She'd probably be your girlfriend if you asked."

Simon felt like slamming his head on the table. Anna may be freaky smart, but she could be the most oblivious person he'd ever met. "I don't think it'd really be fair to her if I did..."

"Hm?"

Simon took in a deep breath, hands twisting the fabric of his shirt and eyes darting over Anna's inquiring features. _She looks really pretty today, _he thought in that dreamy way he'd been sinking into since he first realised that Anna was a _girl,_ not just a boy with a bit of extra padding in certain places and less in others,and a cute one at that, before he shook himself out of it. Now was not the time to be getting distracted! "I like someone else."

"Someone I know?" Simon was _her _friend, after all. If he was going to get a girlfriend she'd have to be up to Anna's standards, and she wouldn't have them monopolising Simon. Perhaps they could work out a time share...

A cough interrupted her thoughts, the sound rather like whoever made it was trying hard not to laugh. She turned towards the noise, and froze when she saw Jace smirking from atop a green sofa a few feet away. Infuriating as it was that she hadn't realised he was there until he made himself known – Jace was an unknown factor, and therefore a dangerous one – she supposed this saved her the trouble of attempting to track him or the siblings down.

He wore the same dark clothes as he had the night before, but in place of the scrawling black marks his arms were covered in thin lines of scarred skin. They were too intricate to not have been done purposely, winding across his skin in twisting designs that urged her to examine them. Unfortunately she was not given a chance to do so, as Jace, seeing that he had caught her attention, casually moved to his feet with a wave. Her eyes narrowed at the motion, something the boy noticed if his widening grin was anything to go by, and Jace walked towards the exit without even a glance back. But from his unhurried strides and deliberate actions of gaining her attention it was obvious that he intended for her to follow him.

But why? That was the important question, one which the answer would dictate her actions from here on out. She was no demon, so she couldn't be the object of such a hunt as the night before. Neither did she know anything about demons, so he couldn't want her for information. Perhaps he and whatever organisation he worked for – he, Isabelle and Alec were only teenagers after all, so it was far more likely that they had been trained as part of a group rather than learning by themselves – were suspicious of her?

Recounting the night before, she could find no valid reason for it. On her part she'd played the role of an innocent civilian to a tee - albeit a curious and open-minded one – who'd merely caught a glimpse of the world Jace and the others inhabited. All right, perhaps some of her responses could be seen as mildly threatening, but nothing that should interest them; people who fought demons on an apparently regular basis. In their eyes Anna was nothing more than an ordinary teenage girl – they couldn't read her mind, as far as she knew – who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She would understand better if it was Isabelle or Alec come after her alone, as they had hardly been pleased that she'd (supposedly) put Jace in danger, and so a personal vendetta would fit their profile. With Jace it was another case entirely. He hadn't seemed to bare any grudge against her, showing minimal aggravation at her presence in comparison to his companions, and had answered several of her questions with little hesitance, showing a mild establishment of trust on his part. Or that the information itself was worthless – either way, it didn't paint Jace as someone who would come after her due to a negative emotional reaction.

A mission? If there was indeed an organisation, just the fact that she knew of them was a risk, should they be a secretive one. Jace's casual exchange of information counteracted that theory, but the reactions of the dark-haired siblings supported it, as they had been annoyed, if not angry when Jace answered her queries. Had Jace been sent to eliminate her? He could be covering up his hostility in an attempt to lead her away to some isolated area, and then dispose of her there. However, there were many holes in such a plan. For one, she could simply refuse to leave and stick to public places, getting attention if he tried to physically apprehend her. In the current circumstances she could tell Simon at least, or make him come with her. Simon may not be able to see Jace, but he would notice if she was killed in front of him. A far better time to get rid of her would be when she was unaware of their presence; maybe take her out with a long-distance weapon, whilst she was asleep or alone. To give her such an opportunity to escape with the knowledge that she was a target went against everything she had seen of the efficient hunting team.

Maybe it was a different type of mission then. They could be investigating her, since the three had been so astounded that she, a 'mundie', could see them. Following her for a few days could allow them to gather information records would not yield, and allow them to assert whether she had begun telling everyone about what she had witnessed. But then why would Jace make himself known? It would hardly be an efficient investigation if the target knew she was being watched.

"Ah," she murmured quietly, watching as Jace continued on towards the exit. "Retrieval, then."

"Anna?" Simon looked up at her in a mixture of confusion and anxiety, the emotions only increasing when she stood up. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not feeling well again," she supplied, eyes remaining fixed on the blond boy. "I'm going to go home. Sorry." Excuses given, she slipped around the table and moved towards the door.

It was a rarely used side door, she knew, leading out into an alley. This time on a Monday there would be no need to worry about any interruptions, as the alley was only commonly used on week-end nights, and the high windowless walls of the buildings on either side would prevent anyone from eavesdropping on their conversation, whilst the doors to the café were thick enough to also ensure this. She wondered if Jace had planned it that way, or if it was simply a lucky coincidence. Either way, when she stepped outside there he was, leaning against the opposite wall with a small device about the size of a mobile in his hand.

_First tactic; intimidation._ _Knock him off balance, take him out of his comfort zone. He has no control; you do. _

Jace barely had a chance to look at his attacker before he was shoved painfully against the wall.

* * *

Here's the second chapter; hope you guys liked it.

Please leave a review to let me know what you think, and thank you to all those who have already. Reviews really help to keep me motivated, and bring my attention back to a story, since I've got so many others that I haven't posted yet that I'm working on.

The dialogue doesn't follow canon completely, something I'm trying hard to keep whilst still getting the necessary information across. Let me know if I'm keeping everyone in character, though obviously Anna's personality will result in different relationships with different characters, therefore effecting how they interact. I wasn't sure about keeping the Simon's crush thing, so if it seems to awkward or anything I might change that.

(the Sephiroth-is-like-Anna thing? Totally didn't mean to do that. I actually wrote the first chapter and thus Anna's characterisation way before I was a FFVII fan. But yay for happy coincidences!)


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